


Engage the Dream

by stifledlaughter



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I got a letter.”<br/>"Truly?"<br/>"I did. That’s why I came, actually. I just have one question.”<br/>“I’ll answer it.”<br/>“Was it the truth?”<br/>------<br/>Julian arrives on Cardassia after the war with some questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Engage the Dream

_This is my life, it's not what it was before_

_All these feelings I've shared_

_And these are my dreams_

_That I'd never lived before_

_Somebody shake me_

_'Cause I, I must be sleeping,_

 ----

He was gardening when he felt the footsteps approach. The _mura_ birds were loud that day, and with Cardassian poor hearing, he probably could not have heard someone walking that far away, but he felt it. Steady and light, like the razorcat of Bajor, the footsteps had a cadence to them.

The suns were angled in their noon positions, throwing down rays of heat to warm Garak’s back. His spade sank itself into the dry dirt, and Garak clawed deeper into the mounds of dry earth. The ground continued to steadily vibrate with the approaching footsteps.

It must have been a voyeur coming to see the house of Tain. Or perhaps to peer at the Exile returned to his humble home, to try to blow life into the smoldering ashes of his world. Well, all they would see is a man on his hands and knees, trying to coax seedlings from the bomb-blasted ground.

He stabbed the dirt and struck tough, cracked earth. Scraping deeper with his ungloved hands, he saw dark red clay. He smiled. Perhaps this was fertile land after all, and could grow more than just the handful of vegetables that clung to life inside the shack he lived in. It seems the bombardments had not sunk their claws too deep into the soil.

The footsteps came closer. He didn’t bother looking up, and instead said, “May I help you?” in his most flat customer-service voice without stopping his digging.

“Would you care to have lunch with me? I’ve travelled an awfully long way.”

Garak was no hyperbolic poet, but he swore, in that moment, the _mura_ birds stopped singing when he looked up to see Julian standing before him.

 ---

_These are my words_

_That I've never said before_

_I think I'm doing okay_

_And this is the smile_

_I've never shown before_

_Somebody shake me_

_'Cause I, I must be sleeping_

 ---

“So, after all that, I decided to come by and see what Cardassia had to offer.” Julian sipped at his mug of red leaf tea, his lips quirking into a smile. “Hm, the authentic red leaf tea is much better than the replicated, I must say. Although I don’t suppose you’re using your ration pack on me, are you?”

“Nothing but the best for the Doctor,” replied Garak, who had a mug for himself, as well as a bowl of _zabu_ meat with _yamok_ sauce. The Doctor had the same before him, and admitted that had he not been so hungry from the shuttle ride from a fairly distant Federation star base, he might have balked a bit at the _zabu_ meat. But for now, he eagerly consumed it with his regular speed, gesturing about the latest events of his life.

“And I’ve been on track to become the head of Starfleet’s main science research facility… the application process has taken well over eight months, but I got past the interview step and next is the group interview before the board of directors…” Julian trailed off, taking a long sip of his red leaf tea. He set the mug down with a slight bit more force than necessary. “But… something changed that. I got a letter.”

“A letter? Truly?” asked Garak casually, looking down into his mug. His reflection shimmered back, reflecting the face of an assassin, gardener, tailor, soldier, and spy. He wondered how he looked to Julian now.

“I did.” The silence hung between them. “That’s why I came, actually.”

“I did sincerely mean my invitation. I’m glad you came.” _Now was the time to be honest. These are the words I’ve needed to say, and I’ll be damned if I keep silent now._

“I just have one question.”

“I’ll answer it.”

“Was it the truth?”

_Silence will not aid me now._

“Every word.”

\--

 

“You’ve been getting the Federation relief shipments?” asked Julian as he changed into Cardassian-style street clothes from the washroom. Given the poor clothing replicator situation on Cardassia, Garak had thrown something together, a mix of light fabrics to wrap around Julian’s lanky form and the necessary head covering to protect the human from the suns.

“Yes, every two or three months we get rations. The rest of Cardassia’s food supply comes from the community gardens and what replicators could be salvaged.” Garak held up the head wrap, frowning. It wasn’t his best work, just stitched-together fabric from his scraps bin, but in a pinch, it worked.

Julian emerged from the washroom, draped in sandy-beige gauzy fabric, and did a small spin, laughing a little bit as the fabric caught the streams of sunlight and shimmered. It took a lot of fabric to cover his long limbs, but Garak had enough stashed away to make it work. “Hm, this just might do. A lot more breathable than that Starfleet uniform.”

Garak repressed a shudder after thinking even briefly about that awful uniform and handed Julian a pair of sandals. “I hope those fit- I haven’t any other pairs.”

Julian slipped them on and smiled. “Perfect! Shall we go to the market then?” He flexed his toes, wriggling slightly, and Garak bit back a smile. He’d never seen Julian’s feet, now that he thought of it, not even in that prison camp. How adorable they were, with tiny toe claws already coated with Cardassia’s dry dust. _I hadn’t ever imagined that he would be here, in truth._

“Of course, my dear Doctor.”

\----

_And now that we're here, it's so far away_

_And I feel like I can face the day_

_And I can't forget that I'm not ashamed_

_To be the person that I am today_

_\----_

Julian strolled along the stalls, his hands behind his back, peering at the fruits and vegetables in the stands. There wasn’t a large crop, but enough that one could have a choice. The Cardassians behind the stalls flickered their eyes over him, wary of any Federation representative, but less so than usual due to his clothing and demeanor. Garak noticed their demeanor changed as Julian smiled broadly at them, and one of them, a bit younger than the average stall attendant, offered him a slice of a yellowish-green fruit with small spikes.

Garak moved closer to the stall – he had been hovering a few meters behind, curious to observe how Julian did in the market alone. As a Starfleet officer, he had been trained to adapt to foreign environments, but he wasn’t stiff and awkward, but rather actively engaged in meeting the vendors.

Garak felt like he was giving Julian a guide to himself by showing the everyday parts of his life. His home. His Cardassia. He felt more vulnerable with Julian observing his culture and community than he did lying in the hospital bed asking for forgiveness for crimes he couldn’t even bring himself to say.

Julian turned to him, practically thrumming with excitement. “Garak! Garak! Have you ever tasted this! It’s amazing!” He handed Garak the rest of his slice. “I had no idea Cardassia had such a variety of fruits and vegetables! Look- right there- that blue thing – what is that? And this- it’s like bread perhaps-”

Garak didn’t tell Julian that he had had this particular fruit hundreds of times in the past, linked to various memories of his childhood and some to his adolescence, sitting alone under the trees that were drooping with the fruit. As for the berry that Julian was sampling, he’d often snuck those in between the long, grueling lessons as Bamarren, an expert at hiding things even that young. The long bread loaves that had suddenly caught the Terran’s attention were specially formulated for an upcoming holiday, one that Garak had always wished he could spend with a partner but never could due to his unpredictable work with the Obsidian Order.

He didn’t tell Julian any of these things now. That was for later. For now, he bit into the fruit and let the tart juices envelop his senses as he watched Julian unravel his past, one slice of fruit at a time.  

\--

_And now that we're here, it's so far away_

_All the struggle we thought was in vain_

_And all the mistakes one life contained_

_They all finally start to go away_

\-----

The day blended into the night, and with the purchases from the market, they settled in for a simple dinner. “Tell me,” said Julian, twiddling a long _lennet_ stalk between his fingers. “If everything in your letter was true… all of the things you said about me, as if I wasn’t going to be the one to read the letter, even though you were writing it _to_ me specifically, about your feelings and how you felt about me… to what end?”

“You ask the question with an answer already in mind,” Garak replied, carefully guarding his concern. Was this a visit between friends? More?

Julian smiled, letting the _lennet_ stalk touch his lips lightly. He tapped it there for a moment, thinking. “Hm, asking me a question in return. I’ve missed that. We don’t have the same flow of conversation in letters as we did sitting across from one another. Well…” He put the stalk down and leaned forward. “This could go back and forth for a while. But I didn’t come here to waste time. I want to see what could happen here.”

Garak’s heart slammed in his chest, it was so loud, could that genetic enhanced hearing maybe catch it? “Do you?” he breathed out. _Definitely not friends then._

“Yes.” Julian stood up and moved around the small table, and stood only a few feet away from Garak, offering his hand. “Now the question is, and I demand an answer, _not_ another question… do you?”

That hand, warm and long-fingered, seemed real enough. Nothing was hazy, or out of place, defying physics or reality.

Perhaps this wasn’t a dream.

But as with all dreams, one had make sure. Touch. Interact. Engage.

He took Julian’s hand and engaged with the dream.

\----

_I'm so afraid of waking_

_Please don't shake me_

_Afraid of waking_

_Please don't shake me_

_\-------_

Tangled in the sheets, Garak twisted awake, thrashing. It was a nightmare- but it could have been reality. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of loneliness. In the nightmare, he was alone, on a bitter, bombarded planet, all of those he cared for dead or far, far away.

He jerked up, and the room was dark and far too small. He twisted around, groping at the covers around him.

“No,” he whispered hoarsely. “He was here… I wasn’t alone… Oh… no…” He leaned back, breathing hard. It was all a dream. Julian visiting him in the garden, exploring the market with him, sharing his bed. And now he had woken to a nightmare.

His heart slammed as he silently gripped and pulled the covers up to himself, the thin, ratty, loveless covers that provided no heat. At least in his dreams, the heat felt real. The kisses, slow at first, then more urgent, the hands, the breathless whispers and moans, all of them had felt so _real_.

“Sentiment…” he muttered to himself, casting a glance around the room, trying not to focus on the aching pain in his chest. Weak. Actually feeling pain during a perceived loss. Look where sentimentality had gotten him-

“Bollocks!” snapped a voice from the kitchen nook. “Stupid- bloody- oh, dammit-“

Garak startled up, scrambling out of bed. Was he still dreaming? Had that been- no- he must be dreaming-

A few moments later, and Julian nervously poked his head around the corner of the door, holding a cracked but functional mug of tea. “Oh- god, Garak, I am so sorry- I didn’t want to wake you- but this damn replicator- it thought I said “red beet” instead of “red leaf” tea and well, let me tell you-“

Garak sprang out of bed and rushed to embrace Julian, who struggled to hold the tea above the Cardassian’s head. “What- what’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Garak murmured, holding the warmth closer to him. Sentimentality be damned. He had his dream. He was holding it. Less than ten hours ago he never would have imagined that this moment could be real, he hadn’t held anyone like this, so intimately, for years, and now, it was here. He was foolish, sentimental, and living in a dream.

“I just didn’t want to wake you,” repeated Julian, setting the cup down and lifting Garak’s chin up to meet his eyes. “Were you dreaming? What’s wrong?”

If this was dreaming, he never wanted to wake up.

 

\---

_An' now that we're here, it's so far away_

_An' I feel like I can face the day_

_An' I can't forget that I'm not ashamed_

_To be the person that I am today_

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this picture on tumblr (http://vaiyamagic.tumblr.com/post/100638226958/been-working-on-this-picture-for-far-too-long-i) and listened to the amazing song "So Far Away" by Staind (which are the lyrics in italics you see here) and this happened. (The song - I highly recommend a listen when you read this. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPW7T_tu3PM)
> 
> I believe lennet and mura birds are tinsnip's Post-Canon Cardassia creations? I've read so many PCC fics, I really can't keep all of the references straight. But I am somewhat sure. Please let me know if I am wrong.


End file.
